


Metropolitan

by TheGoodDoctor



Series: Group Targets [28]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 13:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8403676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoodDoctor/pseuds/TheGoodDoctor
Summary: Four detectives share a house...





	

Q sends the pair a curt nod as he locks the door behind Eve. “Morning,” he says.

“It is,” James says, mock-astonished. “Now I see why Eve keeps you around.”

Q bristles. “And with public relations like that, I'm sure you're a real asset to the Met.”

James smirks and leans against the wall. “At least I'm in the Met.”

Gareth sighs. “Good morning, Eve.”

She smiles, amused at the antics of their respective partners. “Good morning, Gareth. How's the Park Lane case coming along?”

“Have you been nicking our files?” James snaps.

Gareth rolls his eyes. “It was on the bloody radio. All of London knows about the case.”

“Besides,” Q says smugly, “stealing files is rather more _your_ style, isn't it?”

“Boys, please,” Eve says hopefully, but in vain.

“The difference being,” James counters, “our files are government property. Yours are rather more amateur hour.”

“We're making headway, but slowly,” Gareth says, ignoring the boys entirely. “A few new leads to look at today.”

“Good luck,” Eve says brightly, as James and Q squabble. “Terribly dull my end, I'm afraid; standard romantic intrigue in which, if one is that suspicious of one's partner, one ought to break up anyway.”

Gareth smiles. “Behave,” they say, simultaneously, and James and Q back off and quieten down, looking guiltily around them in a desperate attempt to convey the guilt of the other.

“If you four can't kiss and make up for more than half an hour, I shall increase your rent.” Bill folds his arms at the top of the stairs. “I'm your landlord, not a United Nations diplomat.”

“Ah, mon cher Bill,” Eve grins. “You would never.”

“You don't know that,” he says, smiling. “Gareth, I was talking to some guy - Rob Strickland - who says he knew your victim and lives opposite the lane.”

“Huh,” James says thoughtfully. “He didn't come up on the investigation.”

Bill shrugs. “They had a falling out, ooh, two years ago now? Sounded pretty vicious.”

“Ever considered becoming a detective, Bill?” Gareth says. “You're a natural.”

“There's always a space for you on our team,” Q says hopefully.

“But obviously, you'd want to join the proper organisation,” James says, sending a smug look at Q.

“No thanks,” Bill laughs.

“To the Met, or the whole thing?” Eve says. “Because I can understand the Met thing, but-”

“Hey!” Gareth says.

“The whole thing, because you're honestly all as bad as each other.” Bill shakes his head. “Besides, isn't detective work primarily the domain of priests and...other priests nowadays?”

“Only in the fifties,” Gareth smiles.

“Tell you what, though,” Bill says, wandering towards his own part of the house, “I am pretty good at telling people that kids are stuck down wells by barking.”

“Where are your references?” Q says, holding back a smile.

Bill looks at him seriously. “Woof,” he says, monotone.

“Good Lord, it's uncanny,” Q deadpans back.

Bill shrugs. “If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen.”

Eve laughs. “We'll let you know. Gareth, we're heading your way; want a lift?”

“Cheers,” he says. “James, heel.”

Q cackles in delight as James glares at Gareth’s bland smile. “You too, monkey,” Eve says.

“Stupid ape,” James says, grinning.

“Son of a -”

“Right, that's it.” Eve folds her arms and glares at them both. “You two can find your own ways to work this morning.”

“Uh!” Q exclaims, eloquently.

“Gareth, save me,” James whinges.

Gareth puts a hand to his ear, leaning in. “I'm sorry, what was that? I couldn't hear you over your pointless bickering.”

“Oh, snap,” Bill says, slightly muffled and distant, from the kitchen.

Eve loops her arm through Gareth’s. “Bye, kids,” she sings, marching out of the door to her car.

James and Q look at each other. “Well?” Q snaps.

James shrugs. “I can't drive Gareth’s car.”

Q folds his arms triumphantly. “What was that? Something even the Met’s finest can't do?”

“He'd kill me, and they'd never find my body.” The pair consider this for a moment.

“Okay, that's true,” Q concedes.

“Of course,” James says thoughtfully, “ _you'd_ never find my body if it was lying stone cold on the floor at your feet.”

Q bristles. “I could find your body and know everything about it in less than a day, thank you.”

James leans in close. Q licks his lips and swallows impulsively. “Come back to mine later and prove it,” he purrs.

“You can't tempt me,” Q says, swaying slightly towards James. “I know what you're up to.”

“Well, if you're so bloody perceptive,” James says, brushing his lips gently against Q’s, making his breath stutter, “how are we going to get to work?”

The question is like a cold shower. Q leans back and glares at James, who is grinning down at him. “You're a real pain, Bond.”

James laughs, holding the door open for Q. “You know you love it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, detectives, spot the references to:  
> Sherlock  
> Poirot  
> Midsomer Murders  
> Father Brown  
> Grantchester  
> New Tricks  
> Lassie
> 
> I love murder mysteries, kay.


End file.
